Young Chaos
by Zhibrina
Summary: [Saga of Recluce] The young student wizard Cerryl has come far since his arrival at Fairhaven's wizard's tower. He has endured brutal attacks and now must face the forces of revenge from two families... Can he survive the tests ahead?
1. Chaos, Death, and Sewers

_Disclaimer: this is based off of The White Order (which follows the early years of the great-wizard-to-be, Cerryl); it's the ninth book in the Saga of Recluce by L.E. Modesitt, probably one of the coolest authors **EVER** _

Spoilers: not many... there is some spoilage about the ninth book (White Order), but not much. other than that, it's all me. since the SoR books are written out of order (lol pun not intended... order mages, chaos wizards, get it? nevermind.) and have very little to do with each other, this won't ruin much.

Other: (1) there are several time skips, but don't worry, they're duly noted. (2) i tried to write it so that even ppl who haven't read the SoR (which you should have because that series is soo **totally AWESOME**) could understand it, so tell me how i did. i am a fantasy / fiction writer, but i've never done fanfics of any sort before... so... here goes!

oh, here: What you might need to know if you haven't read SoR yet:

there are two types of magic: chaos and order

chaos magic white magic ; choas wizards white wizards ; wear white

order magic black magic (not 'balck' as in 'bad', but just as in the color) ; order mages black mages ; wear black

you can't really weild both unless you're one of the rare "gray wizards", which are not at all common

white wizards hate black mages / 'angels'

black mages hate white wizards / 'demons'

both are bad and evil in their own ways; there needs to be a balance of both

all wizards / mages see a white cloud around white wizards and a black mist around black mages

in books 1-8, the white wizards were portrayed as the bad guys... but the 9th book changed all of that...

* * *

Cerryl found Ullan, the cowardly lancer, hiding by the side of the steps. "Ullan... There's nowhere to go." Cerryl couldn't believe that the slimy triator had set him up. The rules and regulations of Fairhaven were fierce--how _dare_ Ullan betray him like that! Not many would cross Cerryl. Even though he was only a student, **no one** messed with a choas wizard... **no one**... Cerryl lifted his hand, gathered the chaos around him, and let the chaos fire flare across Ullan. He swallowed, trying to hold in the nausea--and succeeding, barely. After a time, he turned away from the white ash, sifting across the walkway, that had once been Ullan. The two lancers that had accompanied Cerryl to find the traitor waited, fearful of the lad who had just tortured the traitor Ullan to death.

Cerryl woke up. It had been a few days since he had killed Ullan, and he still couldn't work everything out in his mind. It didn't make since that his rival, Kesrik, would pay good money to have Ullan and several bandits attack him in the sewers. Cerryl even doubted that it _had_ been Kesrik, even though it was the coin of his family that had paid for the weapons and shields of cold iron--the only thing that is so ordered that it can defeat a chaos wizard and deflect chaos itself--that the bandits had used. Cerryl's friends--Faltar, Lyasa (a pretty thing), Kochar (former aquaintance of Kesrik), and Bealtur (former lacky of Kesrik)--had told him about how while Cerryl was still down in the sewers looking for the traitor Ullan, the High Wizard Sterol with Kinowin, Fydel, and even Cerryl's current teacher, Myral, had come into the courtyard of the wizard's tower and confronted Kesrik. High Wizard Sterol, wearing _heavy_ leather gloves, had thrown the iron shield at Kesrik, asking the student if he recognized it. Kesrik tried to throw chaos fire at Sterol, but was burnt to ashes when the High Wizard turned chaos fire right back onto him. Kesrik's family was banished forever from Fairhaven.

Cerryl knew that Kesrik didn't like him, but have him _killed_?... Faltar had said that Jeslek--or Anya, Jeslek's bed-partner--hadn't been around for the entire ordeal either. While Jeslek was his teacher and master at the moment, the overmage still did _not_ like Cerryl. Myral said that it was because Cerryl was a future rival for Jeslek. Kesrik used to be Jeslek's assistant--which was the possition that Cerryl now held--so maybe it was really Jeslek who was behind all of it... but Jeslek had warned him that Kesrik might try to "throw chaos at him"... Cerry was confused. He shook his head and walked to Myral's quarters. He nodded to the guards by the entrance and walked up to the door, not even knocking before Myral called to him.

"Come in young Cerryl."

Cerryl entered and looked at the elderly wizard. "Good morning, ser." His eyes caught a glimpse of movement. "Oh... L-Leyladin..." he gulped, staring at the beautiful, green-clad, green-eyed, and strawberry-blond-headed healer. "G-Good morning..." It was really too bad that he could never be with her all because he weilded chaos and she order--even if she was a gray wizard (weidler of both), she was more of a black wizard (order wizard), than a white wizard (chaos wizard). But Cerryl was determined not to let that stop him... if only he could talk to her first...

Leyladin turned to Myral. "I've done all I can for you today, ser."

"Until morning then."

"Until morning, ser." Leyladin headed out the door, giving Cerryl a quick smile before she made her leave. Leyladin was the only healer truly trusted at all by any of the Whites. Even though she was Gray, almost Black, her personality commanded respect.

Myral offered Cerryl some hot cider. "Young Cerryl, I have fully enjoyed your company as my student. I just wanted you to know that."

That caught Cerryl a little off guard. "...Thank you... ser..."

Myral cleared his throat. "Now, tomorrow morning, you need to report straight to High Wizard Sterol's quarters. You remember where they are?"

"Yes, ser."

"Good. Now off with you."

Cerryl bowed and left. As much as he hated working in the sewers, it was actually a good thing that he was. The sewers were the only place that a young student was really allowed to use and experiment with chaos fire. So, even thought the higher wizards wouldn't say it, working in the sewers was a vote of confidence that they believed you were ready to use and figure out the forces of chaos. Cerryl simply wished that it wasn't so hard to figure it out, or that the other wizards would actually _teach_ him how to do things. But, as was always their way, they made everyone figure out absolutely _everything_ all on their own. _I guess, in the long run, it makes us better people, better wizards..._ thought the young chaos student.

Cerryl walked to the barracks to meet up with the six lancers who would escort him around the city. "Ready to go?"

"Yes, ser." The lancer almost trembled at the site of Cerryl.

"Then let's go." As they walked into the white-stoned city of Fairhaven, Cerryl couldn't shake the feeling that something felt . . . odd . . .


	2. Scriveneers, Cooks, and Bedpartners

Cerryl rubbed his chin, again wishing that he could grow more than fuzz. He and the six lancers turned out of the wizard's square--the square just outside of the gate into the courtyard of the wizard's tower--and down the road to the main artisan's square. The sun glinted off of the white stone of the city, the light washing over Cerryl and giving him comfort. He thought about Tellis the scriveneer. It seemed so long ago that he had been Tellis's apprentice. This led him to think about how far he'd come during his life, from a poor beggar--the orphaned child of a renegade wizard--to a millhand, teaching himself to read, then thinking he'd spend the rest of his life as a scriveneer's apprentice... Not many wizards came from such meager backgrounds. Most were of coin or of a wizarding family. The only other person that Cerryl could think of that came from a lowly background was Kinowin--one of the wizards that had confronted Kesrik. And Kinowin had to have worked hard for his status; besides logic, one reason Cerryl thought this was the large scar across Kinowin's face.

Cerryl resisted the temptation to shake his head as he walked into the open of the bustling artisan's square. Everyone scurried out of his way, men looking down, women hiding their children, and children cowering behind their mothers. _It's too bad that wizards must be so feared in Fairhaven, but if we didn't maintain such peace and order, all would be vile, dirty, and full of crime. Wizards have to keep a tight noose to maintain the peace of Fairhaven--for that is the name of the city, a "haven" that is "fair", just and beautiful--even at the cost of our popularity, and some of the people's freedoms. Here, we have created a utopia..._

Cerryl's choas senses picked up a since of urgency from someone nearby, a strong sense of urgency... and violence. Between that and his previous sense of something odd, Cerryl kept his mind sharp. He was now in the center of the artisan's square.

There was a disturbance, not far in front of him. "What's going on!" he bellowed. All was silenced. Suddenly, a man lunged at him from in the crowd, a dagger in hand. The man was distraught. _Distraught with a sense of urgency..._ The lancers behind Cerryl quickly rushed forward and pinned the man to the ground.

"Do you want us to kill him, ser?"

"No. I will deal with him. Remove his mask."

Cerryl froze. It was Tellis.

Cerryl didn't know what to do. Tellis was like a father to him. He couldn't punish the man, not it the brutal ways preferred by wizards--a man was either put to death/tortured by chaos fire, or sent to work on the Wizard's Road with all sense of wits, individuality, personality, or history stripped from him. But if Cerryl didn't punish Tellis, every man in Fairhaven would begin to think they could attack a wizard and get away with it. The only thing Cerryl could do was stall with questions. Cerryl took on a cool face and a cold tone. "Why, Tellis?"

Tellis squinted at Cerryl, then his eyes widened in shock and horror. "_Cerryl_?... They didn't say it'd be _you_... By the curse of the angels, what have I done!" Tellis was utterly terrified.

"What did _who_ say, Tellis? Did someone make you do this."

"I...I can't tell... They'll kill them..."

The only "them" that Cerryl could think meant so much to tellis were Beryl and Benthann. Beryl was an old woman who cooked and cleaner for Tellis, and Benthann was a voluptuous woman who shared Tellis's bed. "They'll kill them anyway since you didn't kill me. Now tell me, Tellis, who did this?" He looked at the master scriveneer with beseeching eyes and whispered, "_Please, Tellis. Please..._"

"T-These men--bandits--they came into my house brandishing cold iron. They took Benthann. And Beryl. They said that I would never see them again if I didn't kill someone. I finally agreed. They told me that on this morning, a young White would be walking through here. I was to kill him and run away, only then would they spare Benthann and Beryl..." He started to sob. "I am... so... sorry, Cerryl--I mean, ser... I just..." The rest of the man's words were inaudible to Cerryl, even with his hearing so enhanced by his magic.

"Where are they?"

"... I ... don't know..."

"Ser?" asked one of the lancers. "What should we do?"

"Nothing yet." There was another disturbance behind Cerryl. Someone was trying to run away. Cerryl turned quickly. Sure enough, a bandit was trying to push through the crowd. "Lancers, chase that man! Leave the scriveneer to me, now _go_!"

After a slightly reluctant moment, the lancers ran after the man, quickly seizing him and bringing him to Cerryl's feet.

"Scum! Where are you holding the hostages!" The man didn't answer.

Cerryl turned to one of the lancer captains. "Go to the tower. Explain what is happening to High Wizard Sterol. Ask him to advise me on what to do with this vermin."

"Yes, ser."

Not more than fifteen minutes later, the captain returned on a horse. The lancer captain dismounted bowed his head to Cerryl.

"What did he say?"

"The High Wizard Sterol replies: "I send my concern and hope for a favorable outcome. You may employ whatever tactics you deem fit to extract the information. Once the culprits are found, you are to deal with them in whichever maner is to your liking. You are creative enough to find an..." The lancer captain gulped. "...extremely painful punishment for the vermin. Have fun." The captain, and the increasingly thick crowd surrounding the scene, were all hushed.

Cerryl gathered chaos forces around himself and stared the bandit in his face. "Where are you holding the hostages?" he asked calmly, though his voice was laced with malice. The bandit only spat at Cerryl. The young student wizard forced a small amount of chaos fire into the palm of his hand and struck the bandit across his right cheek.

"Aei...!" he screamed, desperately trying to clutch at his face, but restrained by concrete grip of the lancers.

"Tell me where they are!" The man again refused. Cerryl sent a blast of chaos fire at the man's legs. The bandit fell to the ground, screaming in pain. "Release him," Cerryl ordered the lancers. They complied. "Where?" After another silence, Cerryl sent chaos fire at the man's right arm.

"Aeeii!" wailed the bandit, but he still would not answer.

Cerrly flamed the man's left arm. "Where are they!" Cerryl stared intently into the bandit's eyes. The bandit trembled. "Tell me. NOW!" They bandit betrayed himself with a glance at a shop to Cerryl's right. "Ah, craftmaster Fasse's shop?" Cerryl sent out his senses to Fasse's shop. There were nine people, all holding _very_ still. He could tell that three were bound and gagged. The White student looked down at the tortured bandit writhing on the ground. "Thank you. You have been _most_ useful." With that, he flared chaos fire over the bandit, fully charring the man's body. _Better not turn the body completely into ashes until this entire ordeal is over with..._ By then, several other small squads of lancers had come to the aid. Cerryl pointed to Fasse's shop and shouted to two squads of the lancers, "Go in there and bring out any brigands and bandits. There will be three hostages. Be gentle with them. Your first concern is to get them out of there and out of danger."

"Yes, ser!"

The people stepped aside, making way for the dozen lancers. Cerryl heard shouts and the sound of swords clashing with lances. _Come on... Get them out of there..._

Four lancers ran out of the shop, two of them each carrying a bound, gagged, and blindfolded woman, and the other two helping a beaten man that was gagged and bound only at the wrists. They brought the three to Cerryl. "Untie craftmaster Fasse and help until the ladies' wrists and ankles." As he gave the order, he knelt down and removed one of the women's blindfold and gag.

"Oh, Cerryl!" She saw his white clothes and bowed her head. "That is... thank you, ser."

"Are you alright, Beryl."

She nodded her head.

"Good."

The now unbound Fasse bowed to Cerryl. "Thank you, ser. I owe you my very life."

Cerryl nodded to the craftmaster and shrugged, moving over to Benthann, whose wrists and ankles were almost undone. Cerryl removed her gag, but not her blindfold. The guards had already finished untieing her and she had beat Cerryl to removing the cloth from her eyes.

She gasped. "Cerryl!" She flung her arms around him, nearly tackling him so that he was sitting flatly on the ground. There was a murmer amongst the crowd.

"...flame her..."

"...never...wizard..."

"...poor wretch..."

"...just saved...and now will die..."

She heard the whispers and stared at Cerryl's white garb. "Angel-damned! Cerryl... ser... I-I am so sorry... I knew not... Please... Spare me."

Cerryl stood, brushed off, and offered Benthann his hand. "You have been through much, lady. You must be weary."

"...lucky...could've been fried..."

"...fortunate...favors her..."

Cerryl ignored the gossip. He had far more important things to worry about. The eight remaning lancers forced six bandits out of Fasse's shop to stand before Cerryl.

The student wizard glared each one in the eyes, gathering the forces of chaos.


	3. Torture, Burns, and Rape

Cerryl stepped toward the six bandits and started pacing back and forth in front of them. "Very unwise, attacking a wizard... _Very_ unwise..." Cerryl stopped and stared at them. "Working for anyone?" He looked at the last man in the row of bandits. He was trembling and shaking his head violently.

"No! No! Spare us--"

Cerryl hit the man with the same fist of chaos he had used on the bandit he had previously interrogated.

"Aaeeii!"

"Silence!" But, Cerryl's senses to him that the man was telling the truth about not working for anyone. He glanced at the other men, then turned away. "Then you are just attacking wizards..." He sensed nothing from the others. "Then you want _me_ in particular dead. Why?" There was no answer. "Fine." He turned back towards them. "You will suffer." He glanced at the lancer captain from before. "Tell me captain, what were the last of my orders from High Wizard Sterol again?"

His voice squeaked as he rattled off the message from Sterol. "O-Once the culprits are found, you are to deal with them in whichever maner is to your liking. You are creative enough to find an extremely painful punishment for the vermin. Have f-fun."

"Fun, huh?" Cerryl's penetrating gaze was fixed on the vermin. He hated using force, but such was necessary to keep the peace.

Fear was in the eyes of the bandits. Horrid, grotesque, unadulterated terror . . .

Cerryl gathered a ball of chaos in his hands. He turned his head to Benthann and Beryl. "Ladies... I am about to... punish... the bandits. Would you like to be escorted home?" he asked gently.

Benthann squared her shoulders. "We will watch." The scorn in her voice was overwhelming.

"Beryl?" There was still a soothing calm in Cerryl's voice. "Would you like to go home."

She shook her head.

Satisfied, Cerryl nodded and turned his attention back to the bandits. "Standing is so innappropiate. Not respectful at all. How about you kneel?" He sent flame across the legs of the men, and with a glance ordered the lancers to let them go. They writhed on the ground in front of him. He raised his voice so that the crowd around him could hear his words. "You already know that none will attack a wizard and go unpunished... but _no one_ will harm the citizens of Fairhaven. The White Order of the wizards will not stand it. _I_ won't stand it. Those who go against the people of this city will perish, painfully... and slowly." He looked into the eyes of the bandits, and in his eyes, they saw death. "Am I understood?"

The first three bandits he killed in the same methodic fashion as he had used to interrogate the very fist bandit, slowly burning their bodies piece by piece, keeping them on the brink of death, but never giving them that peace. When the three of them lost all sense of feeling because of the damage to their nerves, Cerryl sent a powerful jolt chaos through their bodies, ending their pitiful lives.

Cerryl could feel chaos build around the last man in the row, the one whose face he had burned. "Why are you trying to do, you worm?" A pathetic puff of chaos fire was hurled at the student chaos wizard, which he easily deflected with his shields. "You are trying to use the forces of _chaos_ on _me_? Are you mad?" Cerryl got up close to the man, using more chaos fire to deform the rest of the bandit's face.

"Aaeeeiii!"

"For that, you will suffer. You have no _idea_ what the forces of chaos can really do... But I will show you, worry not about that."

The man twitched on the ground, clutching at his face.

"No," commanded Cerryl as he seared the bandit's arms. "Now, you may wonder why I protected your ears when I melted the skin from your face, you rubbish. That is simple: you will be last to die, forced to ear the torturned, strangled cries of your companions." Cerryl returned to the fourth and fifth bandits, disposing of them as well. The sickly sweet smell of charred flesh mingled with the smells of springtime. "Have you suffered enough, or do you require more?" he asked the sixth, and final, bandit."

"...more...much more..." mumered someone behind Cerryl.

He turned to see that it had been Benthann. "What else did he do, Benthann? Why does he deserve such pain?" Tears streamed from the woman's eyes--_tears_... from _Benthann_... Cerryl walked over to her, speaking in the most gentle of voices. "Tell me Benthann. What did he do? What did he do to you?"

"He... he forced me to... I had to... Well, instead of hurting Beryl, he took me and..." Benthann was sobbing even more fiercly, and the tears of Beryl--Benthann's mother--began to stream as well.

Cerryl nodded and sighed, removing his own cloak and wrapping around Benthann. He held the weeping woman close. He understood what she meant. "There, there Benthann." He nodded to Tellis, who took the woman into his own arms. Cerryl stalked over to the heap of flesh that was the sixth bandit and kicked him in the small of the back. "You monster! How dare you!" _By the time I am through with you, you will wish you had never laid your filthy fingers on her!_ Cerryl aimed a slow-consuming ball of chaos fire at the man's groin.

"AAAEEEIIII!"

The man's screams continued for long moments at Cerryl slowly, slowly killed him. As the last traces of life faded from him, Cerryl gave a kurt nod and turned towards Tellis and the ladies. "Are you alright for now--"

Tellis's eyes widened as he ran forward. "Cerryl! Watch out!"

In a matter of seconds, Cerryl was on the ground and blood was everywhere.

Cerryl scrambled to his feet to see several lancers tackling a man to the ground. Looking down he saw blood streaming from the back of Tellis's shoulder. "May the angels be damned! Tellis, are you alright!"

Tellis gruffed an affirmative reply. The dagger sticking out of his back was cold iron. _Someone is trying to kill me! They have all along!_ "Beryl, come and help me. I can't pull the dagger from him. It is completely cold iron. Luckily, the dagger hadn't gone very deep. Cerryl chaos-cleaned the wound of any infection and helped Beryl wrap the wound. "Will you be alright, Tellis?"

"Sure. Just smarts a bit."

Cerryl looked at the man held by the lancers. Another bandit. But he looked familiar... "Are there any more of you?"

"No."

Cerryl could tell the man was lying. "How many more?"

"None."

"Very well. I shall find out eventually anyhow, won't I? Since _I_ am your target, afterall." Cerryl turned to one of the lancer undercaptains. Cerryl raised his hand and gathered the forces of chaos. The bandit's eyes widened. But Cerryl paused; he knew that the punishment for attacking wizard is sudden death by chaos fire, but... "I have a better idea. Send him to work on the road."

Surprised, the guard slowly replied, "Yes, ser."

"No! Don't!" cried the bandit. "You're supposed to kill me! You're supposed to **kill** me!

"Oh, and undercaptain?"

"Yes, ser wizard?"

"Be sure to request that the strongest, most painful mental bind be put on him."

"Yes, ser."

The bandit's screams could be heard for several miles. Cerryl turned toward the crows, sensing another disturbance, another sense of urgency... _What now! . . ._

* * *

_now, i realize that this is totally out of the plot. it never happened. thus, i had to make room for it. i had to make room for it by tweeking MINOR parts of the basic plot. i had to tweek it by changing it b/c it never happened; hence its being a FANFIC... ;D_


	4. Order, Blood, and Daggers

A man pushed through the crowd. Cerryl stared straight into the man's eyes... Who was he? He reminded Cerryl of someone, but who? . . . Cerryl froze as he recognized the face. The man looked so very much like Kesrik, so very much! But Kesrik had no siblings and his parents were forever banned from the city. But the bandit was to old to be Kesrik's father.. and the bandit that hurt Tellis looked a lot like Ullan... and that must have--

A sharp pain pierced his thoughts.

In the breif moment that Cerryl had stood in shock and wonder, the bandit had made his move.

A scream wretched from Cerryl's throat, but he knew not that it was his own.

Tellis looked on in horror as a young man in the crowd threw daggers at Cerryl with such skill and deftness that--before Tellis could even react--the bandit had landed five cold iron daggers in Cerryl. Tellis yelled and ran after the man, no longer caring about the now-minescule pain in his arm. It took Tellis and seven lancers to pin the man down. Tellis and the lancer captain ran over to Cerryl.

His wounds were severe. One dagger was embedded directly in his stomach. Blood squirted everywhere from where one of the daggers pierced the artery in his left leg. Another had barely missed Cerryl's heart and was instead little less than an inch into his sternum. Two others were in each of Cerryl's shoulders. Each dagger was cold iron, and where Cerryl's flesh touched the iron, the would festered so that his skin appeared to be burning off of him. A thin stream of gray-white smoke rose up from each of the wounds.

Cerryl writhed on the ground, no longer conscious of anything but the excruciating pain... and the fact that someone was _deffinately_ trying to kill him...

The lancer captain yelled to one of his men, "Go and find a senior wizard, NOW! Tell him all that's happened!" The lancer captain turned back to Cerryl. "Someone help me with these daggers. I don't care _where_ they are--if those daggers stay in, he'll die!" The captain had been trained well.

* * *

Kinowin was taking a rare and pleasant moment to himself walking in the courtyard, reflecting on all that had happened lately--and of the foreboding of war to come... He was snapped out of his thoughts by a shrill cry for help. Kinowin ran over to the distraught lancer and grabbed him firmly by the shoulders. "What is it, man? Out with it!"

"... in the city... artisan's square... attack... mage hurt... student... Cerryl, I think... cold iron daggers... healer... NOW!"

_Cerryl is injured! What has happened now!_ "Go and summon High Wizard Sterol and tell him the entire story." Kinowin turned to the closest servant boy. "Go and find the healer Leyladin. Tell her to meet me in the artisan's square. There has been a serious attack and someone needs aid." Chaos built around Kinowin as he took a horse from an off-duty lancer and raced of the gates, into the wizard's square, and down the alley to the artisan's square.

* * *

"Make way! Make way!" Kinowin jumped off the horse and ran over to the heap of a white-clad body. _The white is barely noticable, so thick is the blood!_ "Out of my way!"

The lancers stepped aside. "We took out the daggers, ser. They were killing him. We be keeping him from losing a lot of blood as best we can, but he still be losing a great deal. Don't know how much longer he can last, ser."

_I've no time to wait for Leyladin. I will meet up with her inside the gates of the Wizard's Tower._ "Hold the attacker. Await for the arival of the High Wizard." He glared at the cold iron daggers. "Have someone wrap those in cloth and bring them to the Tower. Present them to either me, the High Wizard, or the overmage Jeslek for inspection. No others." Without any further word, Kinowin removed his own cloak and wrapped it around Cerryl's body. A lancer helped Kinowin onto the horse with the young student mage, and the overmage Kinowin rode off towards the Tower.

* * *

There was an urgent knock at the door. "Enter."

"High Wizard Sterol, ser... overmage Jeslek, ser... Urgent news!"

* * *

Kinowin rode into the courtyard, holding Cerryl as gently as he could. "Leyladin!" The healer ran up to Kinowin and helped him lower the body.

"I am so very sorry, ser. I--" She looked into the injured student wizard's face. "Cerryl!" she shrieked. "Quickly, ser, help me unwrap him!"

A crowd gathered around, drawn by the flurry of a horse, overmage, blood, and bloodcurdling screams.

"Oh, light! Cerryl! Kinowin, I need your help to put pressure on the wounds!" She gave him a cloth and pointed to the bloody spots on his shoulders and chest. "There." She sensed out each of the three chest wounds. _Good. __It did not hit the vitals..._

"MAKE WAY! MAKE WAY! FOR LIGHT'S SAKE, MAKE WAY!"

Jeslek and Sterol pushed thought the crowd just as Leyladin screamed, "I need more help."

"I can," stated a cool voice.

Leyladin knew not who it was, and did not care. "Take over the compression of his chest bone wound with this cloth... Harder--!" she looked up to see Jeslek kneeling down. "Please, ser, a little firmer."

"How may I help?" asked Sterol.

"This part gets tricky." _I need to heal his stomach... but if I do not tend to his leg, he will bleed to death..._ She sent her senses to Cerryl's stomach, at the same moment handing the High Wizard a wad of cloth. "I am going to do rather forceful, but temporary, healing in his stomach. As soon I say so, it is _vital_ that you hold the cloth firmly to his stomach until I can fix his leg and get back to his stomach--"

Cerryl's screams grew louder as Leyladin let her order senses slip into the student wizard's belly. "Someone hold him down!" Several unknown helpers complied. She gave the word and the High Wizard compressed the wound, getting blood not only on his white sleeves, but on the front of his tunic as well from all the spatter.

A lancer walked into the courtyard, the students--terrified of the ordered iron daggers he bore--quickly moved out of his way. Kinowin nodded to him. "Wait until we're done."

"Yes, ser."

As Leyladin took off the temporary wrapping on Cerryl's thigh, she saw that the dagger had cut through the young man's artery, and that it had been ripped out rather harshly. "Light help him..." She compressed the wound and slowly used her order senses to withdraw the chaos infection already growing in the wound. Blood squirted all over her, but Cerryl began to calm down a bit. It still hurt, but the ordered iron and chaos infection did not burn him anymore. Leyladin flowed her senses across Cerryl's artery. She did not know how long it took her, but she finally managed to order-weave his artery roughly together. Taking out fresh bandages, she wrapped the wound. _The stomach will be harder... Why a belly wound of all things... Can I even heal him? He has lost so much blood and the acids from his stomach have seeped into the rest of his body..._ "Are one of you able to guide the acids of his stomach out of his other organs and either completely remove it or put it back into his stomach?"

Sterol nodded. "I can guide it back into his stomach."

"While I am mending his stomach, I will pause momentarily every now and then. At those points, I will need you to put the acids back in his stomach, little by little... ser."

Sterol nodded, sweat beading on his forehead from the strain of trying to control the worst of Cerryl's stomach acids.

Leyladin cast out her senses once more. _I feel tired... oh so tired... But I cannot quit... I must do all I can to save Cerryl . . . even if I don't succeed..._ Bit by bit, she mended the walls of Cerryl's stomach back together, which was a difficult task; in all his writhing, he had ripped the wound open even more. When the healer woman was finished, she looked up at Sterol. "Thank you, High Wizard."

Sterol felt tired and a wee bit faint, but the healer Leyladin looked as if she would pass out. "Will you be able to mend his other wounds?"

She nodded slowly as she wrapped Cerryl's stomach wound securly with bandages. She moved to the other three, more minor, dagger wounds; the healer was barely able to finish binding them. _He's lost so much blood... This is a disaster..._ With a shudder--as if the student wizard's body agreed with Leyladin's assesment--Cerryl's head slouched, his body completely relaxed, and his eyes lolled back. "Cerryl!" Leyladin cried. "Cerryl! Come back! Don't you leave me! CERRYL!"

Sterol took Cerryl's head into his hands, staring into the whites of Cerryl's completely rolled back eyes. "Come now, lad! Do not die. We will not let a wizard be murdered in Fairhaven..."

Leyladin didn't care about status anymore. She lightly shoved Sterol out of the way and clasped Cerryl's head to her breast. "_Please_, Cerryl... Come back... Come back... Don't leave me..." _Come back . . ._

* * *

Sterol and Jeslek, both covered in blood (but the former moreso), slowly made their way into the artisan's square, walking with such an air of authority, power, and rage that the people cowered before them. An opening was made to reveal a large, thick, and slightly browning area of once-white road-stones, now covered in blood. Not far beyond, more than five squads of lancers held a thrashing prisoner at bay.

The square hushed.

One of the lancers, an undercaptain, by the looks of him, approached the wizards, and gulped, "High Wizard, ser... overmage Jeslek, ser. This is the man who attacked the young student mage... sers..."

Sterol waved him off and stepped forward, almost walking right over a charred corpse that was slightly apart from six others. "The bandits that Cerryl punished?"

"Y-Yes, ser."

Sterol nodded to Jeslek, and the overmage turned the corpses into ash with the flick of a wrist. Next they stopped by Tellis, a single lancer tentatively standing by him. "What has he done?"

"I am Tellis, ser, master scriveneer."

"And why does this lancer guard you, and so hesitantly at that?"

"Because I attempted to attack Cer--the young wizard." At Sterol's glare, Tellis hastily added, "But I was forced to do it! Honest! Cerryl will tell you!"

"T-The young wizard, Cerryl, sers... He didn't seem to blame the scriveneer or anything... sers..." stammered the undercaptain.

"You were the man whose family was kidnapped?" Sterol asked Tellis.

"Yes, ser."

"Your judgement will impend when Cerryl awakens. We will hear him first. But mind you that _we_ decide your punishment, not him."

Tellis bowed down. "Thank you, sers."

The two barely even took any more notice of the scriveneer as they walked toward the restrained bandit. "What have you to say?" asked Sterol.

"I see you be having his blood on you. The bastard must be dead."

"Oh, on the contary..." Jeslek sent a flare of chaos fire against the bandits face, burning the man's mouth shut and ruining his right eye. A moan of pain escaped his throat.

The undercaptain noticed that a hint of vague recognition lingered in the bandit's eye when he had clearly seen Jeslek's face. _Is the overmage silencing him for a purpose... I wonder if I could somehow reach that young student wizard... What was his name? Cerryl? Yes... Cerryl..._

"...Young Cerryl is _quite_ alive."

"Everyone step back," ordered Sterol. "Even the lancers." A large radius of space was left around the panicing bandit. "Cerryl is under my protection. You are charged with attacking him. I am held to punish you."

Jeslek stepped up. "Cerryl is my pupil. You are charged with attacking him. I am held to punish you."

They nodded to each other. "_We_ are held to punish you."

"... important... both of _them_... agree... severe..."

Sterol turned abruptly to the guard. "What?"

"N-N-Nothing, s-ser."

"No, repeat what you said." His voice was hard.

"I--I s-said... the lad must have been important and rather special t-to have made... b-b-both of... y---y-you... agree," he squeaked. "...and that the punishment will be very--" he gulped "--severe..."

"Indeed Jeslek and I have our differences, but surely you are not suggesting that the White Order is fighting amongst its members?"

"N-No, s-s-ser..."

"Good. Now, for your attempt at trying to spread false lies, you will be on the foulest part of sewer duty for the remainder of your service to Fairhaven." Sterol used chaos fire to leave a scar across the lancer's cheek. "Just a reminder."

Everyone accepted the fact that the lancer was relaying false information, either out of habit of forcing themselves to believe the wizards' words or out of subconscious effort to force themselves to believe it even though they knew it false. Very few actually believed Sterol's cover blindly. Only the bandit was open to reality--and he knew that he would suffer dearly for dealing with the wizard--

"The punishment for attempting to attack a wizard is instant death. The punishment for hurting one is even more fierce: You will be tortured to death; boiled by chaos."

Sterol and Jeslek both pointed at the man.

"AAAAEEEEIIIIIII!"

Slowly... slowly... the man began to boil from the inside out . . . Three whole hours later, the wailing bandit--unrecognizable from his boiled flesh--finally ceased his gargled cries. In an instant, Sterol turned him into ashes.


	5. Deaf, Dumb, and Blind

_NOTE: towards the end of this chapter it starts to spoil the end of White Order. later on, it might even go into Colors of Chaos. i dunno. depends if i get any reviews and if i still feel like writing. i'll only continue a lot farther if ppl start reviewing. if not, i'll write about five or six more chapters, wind it up, and conclude the plot. if ppl start reviewing, i have plenty of other ideas to keep this going..._

* * *

"... still pretty bad..."

"... lucky..."

"... out of it... almost five days... wake up?"

"... not many... that much cold iron... live to tell the tale..."

"Healer woman... unconscious... gave everything... save him..."

Cerryl moaned. He couldn't see. He could barely hear. He could tell he was in his room, though. Someone touched a cold cloth to his burning forehead.

"... will be alright, Cerryl... shh."

That voice... It was Lyasa... He felt several other presences in the room. The others he could not even try to feel out, except for Faltar. Faltar was there. But Cerryl could only say one name. "...Leyladin..."

He heard Faltar give a brief chuckle. "... fine... calm down..."

Cerryl managed a painful nod and slipped back into darkness.

* * *

"Come in."

Kinowin entered the study of Sterol. "You told me to inform you of young Cerryl's progress."

"Yes. Please, sit. I know you have hardly left the lad's side. Is he conscious?"

"He woke up for a while less than an hour ago. He is out again, though. He cannot seem to be able to either see nor hear very well."

"As is to be expected. Anyone subjected to so much order for so long--_especially_ after just then using so much chaos--would have such difficulties, not to mention the effects of his wounds. Next time he wakes up, send word to me immediately. Try to keep him conscious until I get there."

"Yes, ser."

* * *

Cerryl woke up with a start. He could not move very well, but his mind was almost as sharp as every. _Those men! Those faces! The one who hurt me--he was one of Kesrik's cousins. He visited once... The other must be a relative of Ullan... I know they want to kill me, but who could have told them how, where, and when I would be most vulnerable (outside of the tower gates and in a crowd that would burst into confusion...) . . . No... someone wants me dead; and I have a good idea who--only I cannot voice that opinion . . . not now at least... and maybe not ever..._

"Cerryl? Are you awake?"

He knew that voice. It belonged to a beatiful, strawberry-blonde, green-eyed healer. "Leyladin..." he croaked.

"Hush now... hush. How are you?"

"Still can't see... Can hear better. ... How... are you?"

"A lot better."

"... strong magic... You should be in bed..."

"It has been almost an eightday since it happened. I am alright now. It is _you_ everyone is worried about. ... We--... we didn't think you would... _live_..."

"He can't beat me that easily." He let out a horse laugh, which cost him dear pain from his chest and stomach. "... ohh..."

"Shh, shh. Take it easy... Who, Cerryl? _Who_ can't beat you?"

"Nevermind... not impor--"

"Is he awake?" asked a rough voice.

"Yes, ser, overmage Kinowin."

"Young Cerryl, I need you to try and stay awake a moment longer, if you can."

"... try..." And he did try, but did not succeed.

* * *

It had been one and a half eightdays, and Cerryl was barely managing to stay awake. "So," prodded Sterol again, "this Tellis cannot be blamed? At all?"

"No, ser... please... don't hurt him... good man..."

"He still cannot go unpunished. You know that."

Cerryl looked up at the blurry image of the High Wizard. "Yes... ser... but _please_... no death or road..."

"We will put him in a Patrol cell for a few days then. We must not let people think we are going soft."

Cerryl nodded.

"I was told in _great_ detail what you did to the bandits seized from Fasse's shop. Very good, very good. Now the people have assurances that Fairhaven's interest lies with them."

His words struck Cerryl as... off... though he nodded to the High Wizard nonetheless.

"Go back to sleep, lad. You need your rest."

Sterol and Derka--a sometimes-advisor to Sterol--departed from Cerryl's room and made their way up the tower steps to Sterol's study. "What will you do, Sterol? That punishment is not strict enough. Now everyone will claim that someone else threatened their family and forced them to attack a wizard."

"Put him on the Patrol sewer cleaning duty for a month. Cerryl won't be out of here until then, at least not to go far. I am making him Jeslek's full assitant, and Jeslek agrees that this is what is best... No, Cerryl will remain near the Tower for a _while_ yet..."

* * *

It had been almost a month since the attack. Cerryl lay awake in bed, wondering who had tried to kill him. While he strongly suspected Jeslek, he also _knew_ that Anya was somehow involved in it all... But there was no way to really be able to tell before becoming a full mage... _But will that ever happen? I come from such a meager background... Either way, I must try..._

However, all of that would have to wait. In an eightday, he was setting out to Gallos. Cerryl didn't know much, only that they were going to scare the prefect of Gallos, Lyam--or some such nonsense... And he couldn't forget the bronze--and rather expensive--razor that Leyladin had given him as a strong hint that she thought him better without the beard that he had so painstakingly finally managed to grow.

As Cerryl rubbed his chin, he reflected on the dreams he had been having of late... In most was large forest, a forest of darkness, order--but pure order, not the symbiotic order with chaos that was prominant in life and in Fairhaven--and the forest choked him. The other was of a red-headed, curly-haired youth, younger than he himself was. He was deffinately of order... and of Recluce--the dreaded isle of the Blacks. When the merciless Blacks decided that Candar was not fit for them, they all traveled to the isle of Recluce, where they ruthlessly shifted the weather so that Recluce became a paradise, and the once peaceful weather of Candar became harsh and unforgiving. There were the druids of the forest of Naclos, but--from what Cerryl had heard--the forest was the home of the druids, and most of them were Grays... Life had been so much easier when he was a pauper, millhand, or scriveneer's apprentice; now, things were getting more and more complicated by the day, and Cerryl had only see the tip of the mountain above the fog . . . .

* * *

Cerryl looked up from _The Colors of White_ (Manual of the Guild at Fairhaven).

_Thrap_. There came a second knock from the door.

Cerryl rose and, before even opening the door, he could smell the scent of sandalwood and trilia. _Anya? What does she want?_ "Ah, hello, Anya, ser. Please, come in."

She pranced in, swaying seductively, and flashing him a brilliant--and very false--smile. Cerryl didn't know what Faltar saw in her. Actually, he did: sex. Cerryl's thoughts went to something that Benthann had once said to him: "Sex is the only power a woman has in Fairhaven... Even if she has a strong room full of coins, or, light forbid, she's a mage, sex is the only real power a woman has..." And then something about how all that men can offer is power, and all they want is sex. All that women can offer is sex, and all they want is power. Sex for power. Power for sex.

"Can I help you, ser?"

"I heard a little more about your little... mayhap... in town. Horrible thing. Four daggers was it?"

She was trying to trap him, but he still answered truthfully. What else could he do. "Five," he replied without emotion.

"Oh, my!" she exclaimed in mock surprise. "You really ought to be more carefull, young Cerryl." She leaned forward, her white tunic taut around her hourglass figure.

"I thank you, lady mage." Cerry began to shift from foot to foot.

"You seem in a rush."

"The evening bell has rung and I am supposed to meet with Faltar and Lyasa for dinner in the Hall. They're serving mutton again." He flashed a hopefully convincing smile.

Anya scrunched her nose, but whether it was from the thought of the Hall's horrible food, or the fact that Cerryl was blowing her off for the Hall's horrible food, Cerryl couldn't tell. The redhead promptly stood and left.

* * *

Cerryl **_hated_** riding horses. They hurt him soo much. The first day of travel always seemed like the worst... until the next day came, and the days after that. _At least we're about to break for the night... Then I can clean up, maybe shave--oh, no! I forgot the razor! The first real present I have ever received from anyone--and from Leyladin at that--and I forget it!_ Cerryl shrugged. At least he would be home soon.

Cerryl's bedroll was set slightly apart from the others that night. He just felt odd around Jeslek. Cerryl kept looking out into the darkness. Something was bothering him again, but exactly what, he did not know.


End file.
